Coming to Care
by Snakequeen-in-Norway
Summary: This is a Harry/Severus care/bonding fic. Harry gets sick during detention with Severus and Severus has to care for him until he gets better. References to child abuse not by Severus . Mild swearing. 1st sequel is up and complete, 2nd sequel is in progress.
1. Chapter 1: Down in Detention

**Author's Note: I'm going through and fixing typos and redoing the formatting since the kind of scene breaks I used apparently don't work anymore O.o Hopefully there will be less typos now. :)**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (did you honestly think I did?)**

**Chapter One: Down in Detention**

Harry trudged toward his detention with Snape, wondering why he just couldn't keep his big mouth shut during Potions class.

He arrived at the Potions Master's door and knocked twice.

"Enter," Snape's clipped voice called from inside the room.

Harry entered. Damn it was cold in here, how could Snape stand it? Pulling his robes closer around him, Harry waited for Snape's instructions.

Severus eyed the boy with a condescending sneer as he pulled his robes around him. Did the idiot child think that would protect him from punishment?

"You will be organizing these potions for me," said Snape, indicating several cardboard boxes full of vials of all shapes and sizes. "Do _not_ break them, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry dully, moving toward the boxes of potions. He sighed, this was going to take him all night.

Severus sat back down at his desk and continued grading essays, turning his back on The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Plague-Him.

*****CTC*****

Harry didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the stool, sorting through the seemingly endless vials of potion. His head throbbed and his limbs ached. Truthfully, he hadn't been feeling too great all day, and the cold, damp air in the dungeon wasn't helping.

Severus glanced over at the boy: He was still sitting on the stool, listlessly sorting through the boxes of potions. Glancing at the clock, Severus noticed that it was only ten minutes until curfew.

"You are dismissed, Potter," he said, making the boy jump. Severus snorted. "You will continue tomorrow at the same time."

"Yes sir," said Harry wearily, forcing his aching legs to carry him to the door.

Severus noticed that Potter seemed to be moving very stiffly. _Probably not used to real work_, he thought to himself, eying the young teen in distaste.

"Go on, Potter," he snapped, "I will not make excuses for you if you are caught out past

curfew."

Harry made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, dragging his feet and shivering, even though he had left the icy dungeons far behind. When he reached his dormitory, he fell into bed without so much as unlacing his trainers, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

*****CTC*****

"Are you alright, mate? You don't look so good," said Ron with concern, peering into Harry's pale face.

Harry blinked at Ron through bleary eyes.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just tired. Snape kept me late last night."

Actually, Harry felt worse than he had the night before. A headache pounded in his temples, his limbs felt like lead, and he was almost positive he was running a temperature. Luckily, though, Ron seemed to accept Harry's excuse.

"That git," he said. "What right does he have to..."

Harry tuned Ron out as he prattled on, fuming about Snape and his unfairness. Sometimes Harry was thankful that Ron was so oblivious; he feared that Hermione would not be as easy to convince.

He was right.

"Are you sure you're alright, Harry?" she asked for the hundredth time at lunch. "You look really awful. Maybe you should go to the hospital wing."

"Leaf 'im alo', 'er-my-nee," said Ron, through a mouthful of steak-and-kidney pie. He swallowed. "If he says he's alright, he's alright."

"Thanks, Ron," said Harry gratefully.

Much to Harry's relief, Hermione decided to let the matter be. But she eyed him suspiciously all through the rest of the day, while Harry did his best to look healthy.

*****CTC*****

Somehow, Harry made his way through all of his classes, and he again found himself outside of Snape's dungeon at six thirty that evening.

"Enter," said Snape's voice from inside the room when Harry knocked.

"You will be organizing the potions," said Snape once Harry had shut the door behind him, not bothering to look up from his papers.

Harry managed a faint "Yes sir," as he went to sit again on the stool.

_Potter seems a lot more subdued lately_, mused Severus to himself as he flipped through the fifth year essays he was grading. As usual, most of them were of an abysmal quality. _Maybe all this punishment is finally getting through that thick head of his_. Severus shook his head. _Not likely_ he scoffed to himself. _I bet he and his little friends are up to something. As usual_.

Harry, meanwhile, was feeling more miserable by the second. His hands were shaking so much he was in constant terror of dropping a vial, and he had to stop every few seconds to cough discreetly into he elbow. He was shivering violently and every inch of him felt as though someone was stabbing him with icy hot needles. Harry's vision started to go blurry, and he tried to say something to his professor but found that he couldn't get the words out. The world tipped sickeningly. His last thought as he lost consciousness was that maybe Hermione was right and he should have gone to the hospital wing after all.

Severus was jerked out of his own thoughts by a loud crash and thump behind him.

"Potter!" he growled, spinning around, ready to berate The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Cause-Chaos for being so clumsy. What he saw, however, brought him up short.

Potter was sprawled on the floor beside the table, a potion vial smashed beside him.

"What in Merlin's name...?" said Severus, hurrying over to the prone figure of the boy.

As he got closer, Severus realized that Potter was extremely pale, though his cheeks were brilliantly flushed, and beads of sweat stood out starkly on his forehead.

Reaching down and laying his fingers against the boy's cheek, Severus swore. Potter was burning up.

Why hadn't he noticed before how ill Potter so obviously was? Severus thought as he lifted the boy gingerly onto the sofa. Thinking back, Severus realized that he had heard the boy coughing quite frequently over the last couple of hours. Again he cursed himself as he covered Potter's violently shivering form with a thick blanket and rushed to the fireplace to Floo Albus and Poppy.

*****CTC*****

Albus, who had been answering a letter from the Minister of Magic, looked up as Severus's head appeared in his fireplace.

"Yes, Severus, what is it?" the headmaster asked, laying down his quill.

"It's Potter," said Severus. His tone was one of annoyance, but he also struggled to keep something that felt very much like worry out of his voice. "He had detention with me this evening and he collapsed in my office. He's running a very high temperature and shaking uncontrollably.

A worried frown creased Albus's brow. "Severus, return to Harry at once," said the Headmaster, rising quickly from his chair. "I will alert Poppy."

Nodding brusquely, Severus disappeared from the fire with a small pop and returned to the unconscious teenager lying on his couch.

**Author's Note: I stole the idea of Severus's nicknames for Harry from another fic, and I'd totally give it credit if I could remember what it was...**

**-SQ**


	2. Chapter 2: The Things You Find

**Author's Note: I'm also going through and deleting outdated authors' notes by the way.**

**In case you were wondering, Harry's in third year in this fic, so he's thirteen. I know it might seem kinda old but...that's how old I made him. And thirteen year olds are still really kids. We all act like kids when we're sick anyway. **

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Shockingly (note the sarcasm), Harry Potter does not belong to me.**

**Chapter 2: The Things You Find**

He's not stable enough to be moved," Poppy proclaimed in an agitated voice. "His fever is very high and I'm not at all sure what is ailing him. I'll have to do several more tests. For the time bing, Potter will have to remain here, Severus."

Severus ground his teeth in aggravation. The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Cause-Him-Grief would be staying in his office while he was ill? What had Severus done to deserve this. No, he told himself, don't answer that.

Sighing in exasperation, Severus perched himself awkwardly on the arm of the sofa as Poppy and Albus left the room. Potter really did look dreadful, Severus thought. Not that he was concerned about the boy; Potter would pull through. He always did.

*****CTC*****

Severus must have fallen asleep at some point, because he awoke to Potter thrashing and crying out in his sleep.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter!" cried Severus, as he attempted to control the boy's wild flailing. "You are going to hurt yourself!"

Cursing teenagers who had to fall ill on his watch, Severus finally quieted the boy, only to find, much to his disquiet, that Potter was clinging to his robes. Severus tried to disentangle his robes from the boy's clutches, but stopped when Potter began to whimper.

Not believing what he was doing, Severus pulled the sleeping boy onto his lap and leaned back against the couch. He was unnerved to realize that he could feel the heat of Potter's fever through his robes.

*****CTC*****

When Severus awoke the next morning, it took him a few seconds to remember why he was sitting on his couch, holding a sleeping Harry Potter in his arms. Groaning inwardly, he placed Potter onto the sofa and stood up, his muscles protesting with every movement.

Looking down at Potter, Severus realized that his robes were drenched with sweat. Rolling his eyes and grimacing, he conjured up pajamas and began undressing the unconscious teen. He smirked at the thought of what Potter would say if he know that he most hated professor was changing his clothes as though he were a baby. The smirk was wiped right off of Severus's face, however, when he saw what was under the boy's shirt.

Old scars and bruises mottled Potter's chest and back, making Severus feel slightly queasy; not an easy feat considering what Severus dealt with as Potions Master.

"Who did this to you, Potter?" whispered Severus, gently touching some of the marks. They reminded Severus unpleasantly of his own childhood.

The boy shivered, and Severus quickly dressed him again, being as careful as possible as he pulled a clean, dry shirt over Potter's head.

Sitting down next to him, Severus found himself stroking Potter's messy black hair, which was also drenched with sweat.

Severus pursed his lips. Potter looked no better than he had yesterday. If anything he looked worse. Severus tried to suppress the pang of worry that thrust at his heart, but he wasn't entirely successful.

Why hadn't Potter told anyone that he was feeling ill? And how had he gotten all those cuts and bruises?

*****CTC*****

"I'm afraid that Potter is suffering from a mixture of blood poisoning and a very bad case of pneumonia," said Poppy, looking into Severus's tired face.

"You can cure him though?" said Severus, forcing the anxiety out of his voice. He did _not_ care about James Potter's son. He did _not_. But he had promised to look after the boy, and look after him he would, no matter how distasteful he found the job.

"Well," Poppy said hesitantly, " because of the blood poisoning there's no way for me to just cure him as if this were a regular illness. There are certainly things I can give him to aid his recovery. But he'll need constant care."

Severus swore under his breath. "Alright then, I can see that I'm still going to have to play babysitter for Potter. Tell me what potions he needs and I'll brew them up."

"Are you sure, Severus?" Albus asked with some concern. "You're not looking too well yourself. I think maybe you'd better rest."

"And send Potter to the hospital wing in this condition? Not only would the move do him even more harm, he'd probably infect the whole school! No, Albus, I'll keep him here."

Albus gave Severus a knowing smile that Severus didn't like at all. "As you wish, my boy," he said, and he and Poppy left the room.

Severus looked down at the sleeping teenager huddled on his sofa. Severus had to admit that Potter looked pretty pathetic like this, and not pathetic in an obnoxiously incompetent kind of way, pathetic in a vulnerable, pity-invoking kind of way. Severus knelt down next to the boy's prone form.

"Potter?" he said softly. "Potter, can you hear me?" As usual, he got no response.

Severus brushed The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Confound-Him's hair back from his burning forehead. Potter's fever was higher than ever. Cursing, Severus went over to his shelves and brought over a vial of fever-reducing potion. He didn't have much hope that it would work, but he had to try something while he brewed the potions that might help Potter recover.

*****CTC*****

Severus spent the next few days in a nearly constant cycle of tending to the boy's ill-healed wounds, brewing potions, and forcing said potions down Potter's throat, along with water and fruit juice to keep him hydrated and nourished. In the few odd moments he had free, Severus caught snatches of sleep on the couch beside the boy. He could only be glad that it was the Christmas holidays and that he wasn't missing teaching any of his classes.

Severus noticed that the lack of sleep was causing the chill in his chambers to get to him; despite the constantly boiling potions, Severus found himself building up the fire in the fireplace larger and larger every day. Shaking his head in disgust at what the Potter boy had gotten him into this time, Severus added another log to the fire and went over to Potter to give him his latest does of potion.

"Potter," said Severus for what felt like the thousandth time. "Potter. Can you hear me?" The boy whimpered in his sleep, but gave no indication that he was aware of Severus's presence.

**AN: I know my chapters are really short, but my story isn't really all that long. And I think the places where I end my chapters are good chapter ends. If you like this story I have other fics too. And there's a sequel in progress now.**

**If you like Albus Severus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy you should read my fic **_**Turn To Gold**_**. It's really different from this one but I think it's pretty good. It is slash, just so you know. I also have another Harry/Severus sicfic, a Lily L. P./OC eventual femslash, and an Albus Severus/Severus's portrait oneshot sicfic thing. I'm working some other stuff too.**

**Sorry, that was kind of long...**


	3. Chapter 3: An Understanding

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I know, you all just had heart attacks...**

**Chapter Three: An Understanding**

Severus awoke in the middle of the night and couldn't figure out what had woken him. His rooms were perfectly silent. Too silent, he realized with a jolt, looking towards Potter's small form next to him on the couch. The boy, who regularly kept Severus awake with his thrashing and moaning, was quite still. With a feeling of dread, Severus bent over him. Potter wasn't breathing.

Severus had the damnable boy cradled in his arms in a heartbeat.

"Breathe, damn you, breath," he muttered frantically, pointing his wand at the boy's immobile chest.

Sending his Patronus out in search of Dumbledore, Severus grimaced and then lowered his face to Potter's to give him mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Wondering where in all hells Albus was and what was taking him so long, Severus blinked to clear his vision, which had inexplicably gone blurry. Trembling with fatigue, it took Severus a moment to realize that The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-His-Life-Hell was breathing faintly again.

Severus nearly collapsed with relief, but he knew that Potter was far from alright.

"Don't die on me, Harry," said Severus fiercely. "Don't you dare die."

He pulled several vials of potion off of a shelf and was just pouring them down Potter's throat when Albus arrived.

"It's about time," growled Severus.

"What is it, Severus?" asked the Headmaster in an infuriatingly calm tone.

"What it _is_," spat Severus, in no mood for niceties, "is that your precious little Golden Boy just nearly died!"

Albus's eyes widened in surprise and he quickly strode over to the unconscious boy.

"His breathing is worryingly shallow," said Albus in concern, feeling the boy's hot forehead.

"Well it's an improvement on a few minutes ago," ground out Severus. "When he wasn't breathing at all."

Albus looked distressed. "I'll fetch Poppy," he said, and hurried from the room.

"You exhaust me," Severus informed the sleeping boy. But somehow he couldn't feel anger towards the boy. In fact, what he felt most was a deep exhaustion that went down to his very bones. His limbs ached and his head pounded. The sooner Potter was well the better. Then Severus could get back to his normal life without having to worry about an ailing thirteen-year-old sleeping on his sofa.

Poppy came hurrying into the room, followed by Albus.

"Oh good gracious!" exclaimed Poppy when she saw Potter's barely fluttering chest. She immediately set to work, leaving Albus gazing at Severus.

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Severus, how are you feeling?"

Severus glowered. "As well as can be expected when I'm up all night tending to Potter."

Albus gave Severus a piercing look, but said nothing else. After Poppy had fussed over Potter for a while longer, she gave Severus several more instructions and then left with Albus, thankfully, following her out.

Severus sat down heavily beside The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Give-Him-Headaches. To his surprise, Potter stirred and his eyes fluttered open. Snape stared down into the wan face.

"Potter? Potter, are you awake?"

Harry felt as though he were swimming through very dense pudding. He knew that there was light somewhere above him, but he couldn't seem to figure out which way was up. Distantly, he heard a voice call his name, and he struggled toward it, his lungs expanding painfully as he gasped for breath. As his vision burst into spots of intense light, he began to cough so violently that it wracked his whole body. Harry felt a cool hand cup his head, and a glass of water was brought to his lips. He drank gratefully, reaching out a trembling hand to his rescuer. A firm grip caught his own and a silky baritone voice said, "Breathe, Potter."

Harry obeyed, squinting into the light as the blurry shapes around him coalesced into a room.

"Where am I?" Harry croaked.

"You are in my office," said the voice. "Where you have been for the last week and a half since you collapsed during your detention."

Office? Collapsed? Detention? Oh Merlin...

"_Snape?"_

"_Professor_ Snape," said the voice, as Snape came into view carrying a goblet full of potion.

Harry's professor squatted down in front of the sofa. "Drink this," he instructed, holding the goblet to Harry's lips.

Harry did as he was told, too weak to argue, and then looked back at his professor.

"What happened?"

"As I have already stated, you collapsed during your detention."

"Has it really been a week and a half?" Harry asked weakly.

"Indeed," Snape replied, setting the goblet down.

"Have you—have you been taking care of me?" asked the boy.

"I have," said Snape.

Harry gaped at him.

"Don't sit there gawping like a fish, Potter," said Severus, his relief that Potter was finally awake making him short tempered.

Potter closed his mouth and Severus pulled out his wand and cast a temperature check spell. He winced. "Potter, your fever is still extremely high. I suggest you get some more rest."

"I'm not tired, Professor," said Harry, trying to sit up.

"For Merlin's sake!" said Severus, catching the boy before he fell and gently placing him in a sitting position. "Potter, you are still very ill."

As Severus tried to walk away, Potter grabbed his robes. "D-don't go..." the boy whispered.

Severus raised his brows at the boy, who ducked his head.

"P-please?" he added uncertainly.

_Merlin, Potter must still be feeling terrible _thought Severus as he reluctantly returned to he boy's side.

"What do you want, Potter?" he asked tiredly.

Harry just shook his head miserably. "Th-thank you," he muttered, almost inaudibly.

Severus stared at him, dumbstruck. Pulling himself together, Severus sat down beside the ailing boy.

"While you are awake, do you think you could answer some questions?" said Severus.

Harry nodded.

"One: Why didn't you tell anyone you were ill, Potter?"

Harry bit his lip and stared down at his lap.

"Well...?"

"I—I'm not supposed to show when I'm not feeling well," said Harry in a small voice.

Whatever Severus had expected to hear, this was not it.

"What?"

"I—at home, at the Dursleys', I'm just supposed to, you know, deal with it."

"Deal with it?" asked Severus incredulously. "_Deal with_ a severe case of pneumonia and blood poisoning?"

Harry shrugged.

"Harry..." Severus took the boy's chin in his and forced him to look at him. Damn, his eyes were exactly like Lily's... "Harry, do your relatives beat you?"

Harry blinked at him. "You—you just called me Harry," the boy said in awe.

Severus rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the comment.

"Do they?"

"Um—sometimes," the boy whispered. "When I do something wrong."

Severus swore. The boy jumped.

"No, no, it's okay," said Severus, trying to sooth the frightened child. "Harry...the marks on your back. Were those from your relatives beating you?"

Harry cringed. _Oh, no_ he thought. Snape had seen the scars and bruises covering his back. No one had ever seen those. Not even Ron. Much to his shame, Harry felt tears well up in his eyes as he nodded miserably.

Harry felt a cool hand brushing his tears away.

"It's not your fault," said Snape softly.

"Yes it is," Harry mumbled. "They do it to punish me. For being bad."

"Don't you _ever_ think you deserve that kind of treatment, do you hear me?" said Severus roughly, gripping the boy's shoulders. "I saw those wounds. That's not a punishment. That's cruelty. Do you understand me?"

Harry nodded, fighting back the tears that threatened to come.

"I mean that, Potter," said Snape more softly. "I'll not stand to see another child abused in that way."

"Another?" questioned Harry.

"Leave it," growled Snape threateningly.

Harry suddenly realized how hoarse his professor's voice sounded.

"Professor? Are you alright? You sound ill..." Harry squinted up at Snape. He _looked_ ill. His face was even paler than usual and his eyes were glassy.

Severus drew a hand over his sweaty forehead and suppressed a shiver. "I'm fine Potter. Worry about yourself."

Harry felt his eyelids drooping. "G'night P'fessor," he mumbled, as his head sagged against Snape's shoulder.

"Goodnight Harry," whispered Severus.

**AN: ****I know the story's already finished, but I still greatly appreciate reviews :)**

**-SQ**


	4. Chapter 4: The Tables Are Turned

**Author's Note: I used to have more author's notes, but they wouldn't really make sense now that the story is all posted.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Wow, what a revelation.**

**Chapter Four: The Tables Are Turned**

Harry woke later that night to a deep coughing. At first he thought it was himself, but then realized that the sound was coming from Snape, who was sitting in a chair by the fire.

Getting shakily to his feet, Harry stumbled over to his professor and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. Snape was shaking violently.

"Professor?" said Harry uncertainly.

Severus looked up into the boy's concerned face, trying to bring it into focus. He tired to say something, but was overcome by another coughing fit. The expression on Potter's face changed from concern to fear.

"Professor? Professor, should I get someone?"

Severus shook his head. "Don't be a fool, Potter, you wouldn't make it as far as the door. Lie back down." With an effort, Severus got to his feet and led the boy back to the sofa.

"Professor," said the boy, looking up at Severus. "I got you sick, didn't I?"

"Yes," said Severus "Yes, if you hadn't insisted on acting as if nothing was wrong when you were falling ill, all of this nonsense could have been prevented. But what's done is done," he added, sitting down next to the boy. "Get some sleep, Potter."

"You, too, Professor," the boy said shyly.

Severus huffed and turned away from Potter, but he couldn't help feeling a little touched by the boy's concern.

*****CTC*****

The next morning they both woke to a sharp knock on the door.

Dumbledore stuck his head into the room and, seeing Harry, his face broke into a grin.

"Harry, you're awake! How marvelous!"

Then his eyes fell on Severus.

"Severus, what is this?"

He crossed the room and put his hand on Severus's forehead.

"You're running a temperature," said Dumbledore, frowning.

"It's nothing," said Severus irritably, standing up. But he immediately stumbled and fell back down onto the sofa.

"Oh dear," said Albus. "I'll have to go see Poppy."

*****CTC*****

After Dumbleore and Madame Pomfrey had finally left, ordering them both to remain in bed, Harry turned to his professor.

"Er—I'm sorry," he said, biting his lip.

"For what, Potter?" said Snape.

"For getting you sick, and making you take care of me, and—"

"You didn't make me do anything," Severus stated flatly.

There was an embarrassed silence.

"You saved my life," whispered Harry.

"How do you—?"

"I was awake...sort of. You told me not to die."

"Oh."

*****CTC*****

Severus was coughing. He didn't know how long he had been coughing, or if it had started before or after he had woken up, but he knew he needed water. He didn't know how he was going to get any though, if he was coughing so hard. Then Severus felt a small hand under his head, and another hand brought a glass of water to his lips.

"Drink this, Professor," said Harry. "It'll be alright."

Slowly, Severus's coughing eased, and he looked up into the frightened eyes of Harry Potter.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Severus rasped.

"You—you were—" Harry looked taken aback at the reprimand. "Are—are you alright, Professor?" he asked in a small voice.

"I think so." Severus sighed and looked into the small face in front of him. "Thank you, Harry."

"Y-you're welcome," stuttered Harry. "Sir," he added.

Severus struggled upright and placed a hand on Harry's forehead. "Your fever's gone down some," he noted.

Harry gave him a small smile which quickly turned into a frown as the professor started coughing again.

Harry's small hand reached out and gasped Severus's larger one.

"Professor? Professor, please...oh Merlin...you'll be okay, you'll be okay."

Awkwardly, Harry patted the Potions Master on the back until his coughing subsided.

"Water," Severus rasped, and Harry quickly tilted the cup to his lips.

Both professor and student were shaking violently.

"Professor Snape?" Harry ventured. "I think we should get someone. You're not well, and I..."

"Are not well either," finished Snape. "For once I agree with you, Potter." He flicked his wand and the silvery patronus rushed out of the room so quickly that it was just a silver blur.

Severus felt worse than he could ever remember feeling. No, that wasn't true, he had felt a hell of a lot worse when...but he didn't want to think about that.

"What have you _given_ me, Potter?" he asked, groaning.

"I'm sorry, sir," the boy whispered. To Severus's horror, tears were coursing down Potter's cheeks.

"Potter, don't, I didn't mean it like that," he said, but The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Him-Surprise-Himself only sobbed harder.

"Harry—"

Gently, Severus drew the trembling boy onto his lap, groaning with the effort. "Don't cry," said Severus in what he hoped was a soothing tone. "Everything will be alright."

Severus looked up as Albus entered the room and took in the scene.

"He's overwrought," said Severus in response to the Headmaster's questioning look. "I'm afraid I—upset him." Severus gestured to his own shaking body and waxy skin.

"Maybe it would be best if Harry were moved to the hospital wing now, since he seems to be beginning to recover."

But when Dumbledore reached out to take Harry from Severus, the boy clung to the front of Severus's robes.

"Harry," said Severus in annoyance, trying to pry the boy's hands from his robes. "Go with Professor Dumbledore."

Harry raised his head and looked at Severus. "Will you be okay?" he asked.

"Of all the silly—of course I'll be okay, Potter!" Severus snapped. "Your presence does not ensure my health. Now go!"

The boy winced, and Severus immediately regretted his harsh tone. Dumbledore, however, considered Severus thoughtfully.

"I think you'd better come, too, Severus," said Albus. "We will use the Floo."

Grumbling, Severus agreed and the three of them Flooed into the hospital wing, where Poppy immediately put Harry and Severus straight to bed.

*****CTC*****

Harry woke in the middle of the night, drenched with sweat, but feeling better than he had felt in a long while. He reached up and felt his own forehead. He couldn't tell if he had a fever or not, but if he did then it had at least gone down.

Harry looked over at the bed where Snape was sleeping. His professor's cheeks were flushed with fever and his breathing was labored. Harry's insides squirmed with guilt.

Snape's eyes opened. "What are you staring at, Potter?"

Harry jumped. "I—nothing sir."

Severus pulled himself into a sitting position. "I am not going to die the moment you take your eyes off me, Potter," he said, with a hint of his old sneer.

Harry bit his lip and looked down at is hands.

Severus sighed. "Come here, Harry."

Harry looked up in surprise.

"I am used to being obeyed, Potter," said Snape.

Harry hurried over and sat down gingerly on the professor's bed.

"Why are you awake at this hour, Potter?" said Severus.

"I'm feeling a lot better, Professor, honest," said said Harry.

"That is good," said Severus.

Severus coughed and The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Mystify-Him squeezed his shoulder gently.

"Do you need anything, Professor?" asked Harry.

Severus shook his head in amazement. "Go back to bed, Potter, I'll still be here in the morning. I promise."

Harry got up and walked back over to his own bed.

"Er—" said Harry, feeling like he should say something. "I—er—"

"Out with it, Potter," said Severus impatiently.

"I hope you feel better, Professor," said Harry in a mumbled rush.

Severus rolled his eyes, a gesture Harry couldn't see in the dark.

"Go back to sleep, Potter," said Severus.

"Yes sir," said Harry.

*****CTC*****

When Severus awoke the next morning he knew immediately that Poppy's healing spells had not worked as they should. His head felt as though it was being split in half, every muscle in his body ached, and he was _freezing_. He felt worse than he had the day before, if that was even possible. He opened his eyes and glanced over at Potter. The boy was sitting up in his bed, eating a bowl a porridge and a piece of toast. He looked completely recovered.

_Lucky him_, though Severus resentfully. But he knew that he wasn't being fair, even if it was the brat who had gotten him sick in the first place. He _was_ glad that Potter was feeling better, he just wished he himself didn't feel so damn awful.

At that moment Poppy glanced up and saw that Severus was awake. She bustled over and cast a critical eye over him. Severus didn't have to be a mediwizard or a Legimens (though he was that) to know that he looked awful; he couldn't have fooled Poppy if he tried.

"Weren't you supposed to fix this?" Severus ground out.

Poppy pursed her lips. "If you hadn't overworked yourself and had come to me earlier then I could have," she said tartly. "Now you'll just have to ride it out. My spells and your potions will help, of course, but since you took your time in coming to me, you'll have to take your time in getting better."

Harry stopped with his piece of toast halfway to his mouth. Snape sounded _terrible_. He looked over at his professor and gasped. If he sounded terrible, it was nothing to how he looked. Harry had never seen Snape look anything but imposing, seeing Snape like this frightened him.

_It's your fault_, he reminded himself. _It's _Snape_, _a part of his brain said. _Yes_, said the other part, _but he saved your life. Twice. A nice way to repay him, this._

Severus grimaced. "Poppy, I won't stay here to be gawked at by every brat who wants to see their Potions Master on his deathbed. I demand to be returned to my rooms."

"Severus, look at yourself, you are in no condition at all to take care of yourself."

"This is _embarrassing_," growled Severus.

"I'll do it," said a small voice.

Both Poppy and Severus turned to look at Harry.

"I'll do it," he repeated. "I'll look after him. I'm better now, and I can't get it again. It's the least I can do."

"Potter, don't be ridiculous," said Severus.

But Madam Pomfrey looked thoughtful. "Now, there's an interesting idea. I'd have to check in on you of course, I can't entrust such a job entirely to an untrained thirteen year old, but it would at least make it possible for you to remain in your own quarters. What do you think, Severus?"

"You can't be serious?" said Severus.

"It's either that or stay here," Poppy asserted.

Severus ground his teeth. "Potter, don't be stupid. Go and play with your friends."

Harry tucked his legs under him on the bed. There was a determined look in his eyes that Severus didn't like at all.

"Professor, I know how you feel. You feel like _shit_."

"Potter, watch your language," said Severus.

Harry ignored him. "I also know what it's like for people to try and gawk at you in the hospital wing. It sucks. If you order me to go, I'll go. But I won't be happy about it."

"It's not my job to make you happy," retorted Severus.

Harry just stared at him.

"Oh, very well!" said Severus, feeling too miserable to argue the point any longer. "If you want to give up the rest of your Christmas break, Potter, be my guest."

Harry gave him a crooked half smile.

_Damn him_, thought Severus irritably, _he can be cute when he wants to be_.

**AN: Reviews are always appreciated, no matter how long ago this was published.**


	5. Chapter 5: Uncertain Ground

**Disclaimer: Breaking News—I do not own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Five: Uncertain Ground**

Somehow, Severus made it back down to the dungeons and into bed. Resentfully, he admitted to himself that he _did_ need someone to take care of him. But goddamnit he hated it!

As soon as they reached Snape's office, the Potions Master fell into a restless sleep. After assuring Madam Pomfrey that he would be fine and that he would Floo her if anything happened, Harry sat down and examined his professor. Snape looked awful. His skin was waxy and his face was lined with pain. His shoulders shook underneath the blankets. Despite his assurances to Madam Pomfrey, it felt wrong for him to be sitting here alone with Snape, watching the man sleep fitfully, listening to his labored breathing. Feeling uncomfortable, Harry pulled out his holiday homework, which he had brought down with him, and began to read a chapter from his Transfiguration textbook.

Half an hour later, Harry was interrupted by a small moan. He looked down at Snape. The Potions Master was still asleep, but he was moving restlessly and shivering. Harry put down his homework and nervously placed a hand on Snape's shoulder.

"It's alright," said Harry, moving his hand in gentle circles. "You'll get better." He brought his hand to Snape's forehead. "Merlin, Professor...you've got a really bad fever..."

Harry bit his lip. He was starting to think that this was a really bad idea. Snape hated him, he was _thirteen_, what was he supposed to do? What _could_ he do? But he had to do _something_. Never mind that Snape hated him, never mind that he had always tried to make Harry as miserable as possible, Snape had taken care of him while he was ill and delirious. And now Snape was sick, very sick, and it was because of Harry. Harry felt horribly guilty.

Moving his hand back to rest on Snape's shoulder, Harry said "How in the world did you take care of me while you were like this?"

"What choice did I have?"

Harry started. He hadn't realized the Potions Master was awake.

"Professor, you're awake! Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do? How do you feel?"

"How do you think I feel, Potter?" said Severus through chattering teeth. How he felt was miserable. He could barely think coherently enough to answer Potter's questions.

Severus felt a small hand cup his head, and another brought a goblet full of potion to his lips. He recognized this potion, he had brewed it himself for Potter.

"Drink this," said Harry.

Severus drank. The buzzing in his head lessened ever-so-slightly and he was able to look at Potter. The boy looked terrified.

"Don't look like that, Potter," said Severus, "you look as though I was going to bite your head off. I can barely _move_."

Far from reassuring Harry, this only made the boy look even more wretched.

"Don't _look_ like that, Potter," Severus repeated.

"I'm sorry," whispered Harry. "It's just that you look so..."

"Terrible? Pathetic? Horrid?"

"_Ill_," said Harry.

"Imagine that,"muttered Severus.

Severus began to cough violently and Harry struggled to get him into a sitting position. Severus helped as much as he could, but he was so damn weak.

Harry rubbed Snape's back. "Breathe, Professor, breathe. Oh, Merlin, Professor, it'll be okay. _Breathe_."

Severus clutched Harry for support as his coughs became gasps and then his breathing eased back to something resembling normal. Harry held a cup of water to his lips and Severus drank until he had his voice back.

"Thank you, Potter," he said raspily.

"This was a stupid idea," said Harry. "I'll get Madam Pomfrey. She knows what to do. I don't. I—"

Severus grabbed Harry's wrist as he tried to leave.

"No. Potter, I'd rather"—he cleared his throat painfully—"I'd rather you stayed."

"You—would?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Yes, Potter, I would," said Severus. "I'm not a sadistic git all the time."

"No! Professor, that's not what I—"

"Don't tell tell me you've never said it," said Severus, raising an eyebrow.

Harry looked down, shame-faced. "I—I don't think so anymore," he mumbled.

Severus was touched.

"Look, Harry—" Severus began coughing again, tremors wracking his body.

Harry, emboldened by his professor's attitude, put his arm around Snape's shoulders.

"Shh, Professor, don't talk," he said. "You've got a terrible fever. Go back to sleep."

Lying back down, Severus eyed Potter through half-closed lids. "You are the most confounding child I have ever met, Potter," he muttered, before drifting off to sleep again.

Somehow, Harry thought, this almost felt almost like a compliment.

*****CTC*****

Harry had fallen asleep curled up on the floor beside Snape's bed. He knew that the couch out in the other room would be more comfortable, but he was supposed to be looking after his professor and he didn't want to leave him alone. After all, Snape hadn't left _him _alone.

When Severus awoke he know it was very late. His headache had lessened and he could move without wincing as long as he moved slowly. Leaning over the side of the bed, he saw the small form of Potter sleeping on the floor.

Never a heavy sleeper, Harry opened his eyes when he heard the bed creak above him.

"Potter, what are you doing down there?" said Severus.

"Er—sleeping?" said Harry. "You're awake," he observed. "How are you feeling?"

"How very observant of you," Severus noted. "I am, indeed, awake. Is there any particular reason you are sleeping on the floor?"

"Er—" said Harry. "There isn't another bed."

"There is, however, a couch out in my office," said Severus.

"But that's—you know—out there," said Harry.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Master of the Obvious, Potter."

Harry raised himself onto his knees and pressed a hand against Severus's forehead. He frowned.

"You've still got a really bad fever, Professor," said Harry.

"No, really?" said Severus sarcastically. "Is that why I feel like I've been run over by a herd of hippogriffs?"

Harry gave a sort of half-smile, unsure whether he should be amused or not. In the past, Snape's sarcasm had always been cruel and usually directed at him or his friends, but when he wasn't being mean the man could actually be funny, in a very dry sort of way.

"Sit up on the bed, Potter," said Severus. "I'm getting a crick in my neck looking down at you."

Harry immediately jumped up, but he hesitated before sitting down on Snape's bed.

Severus sighed. "Harry, _relax_. _Sit down_."

Harry sat. Severus leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

A cool cloth was pressed to his forehead.

"That'll help your headache, Professor," said Harry.

"How did you know I had a headache?" asked Severus, surprised.

"Yesterday was the first time in two weeks that I haven't had a headache," Harry pointed out.

Severus had to admit he had a point.

"Professor..." Harry ventured after a moment.

"What is it, Potter?" sighed Snape, rubbing his temples.

"Er—why _did_ you take care of me? When I was ill I mean."

"Like I said before, Potter, what choice did I have?"

Harry fidgeted. "Didn't you know you were getting sick?"

"Stop fidgeting, Potter," said Severus, avoiding the question.

"Sorry, Professor," said Harry quickly. He drew his knees up to his chin. "Er—are you hungry, Professor?"

"No," said Severus, "but I should eat anyway."

"I'll be right back."

Harry hopped off the bed and ran out into Snape's office. A minute later he came back with the food Madam Pomfrey had left, a glass of water, and a goblet of potion.

Severus took the food from the anxious-looking boy. He didn't feel remotely like eating but, knowing he should, he picked up a roll anyway and bit into it.

Harry shifted from foot to foot, unsure what to do. It was uncomfortably strange, standing here, watching his professor picking at the food.

"Harry, sit _down_," said Severus impatiently. "Stop acting as though you're ready to bolt. You're making me dizzy."

"Oh," said Harry, sitting down on the far side of the bed, and then after a moment, "Are you really feeling dizzy, sir?"

Severus closed his eyes, willing himself to have patience with the child.

"Yes, Harry, I rarely say things that I do not mean."

Harry bit his lip. "So, earlier...that thing about you being on your deathbed..."

Severus suddenly realized why Potter had been acting like a skittish animal.

"_Harry," _he groaned. "No, I did not mean that I am actually dying. I was being _sarcastic_."

Severus sat up but then immediately regretted the decision; his vision swam and the world tilted sickeningly.

Seeing Snape sit up and then lurch forward, Harry moved without thinking, leaning across the bed and catching his professor by the shoulders, pushing him back against the headboard.

"Professor? Are you okay?" Harry rose up on his knees beside Snape.

Severus took a deep breath and the world righted itself.

"Yes, Harry, I am fine."

"You're not _fine_, Professor," said Harry. "You're _sick_."

"Brilliant observation," retorted Severus dryly. Then he sighed. "If you really want to be of help, Potter, please be quiet so that I can rest. I will talk to you later."

"You will?" said Harry, startled.

"You're such an infuriating little chatterbox, I can hardly help it, Potter." said Severus. "Now do your homework or something."

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

"And Harry?" added Severus.

"Yes, sir?"

"Stop _worrying_ so much."

"Yes, sir."

**AN: Remember that I love to get reviews even now. You don't have to review of course (like I could force you anyway), but it sure would be nice ;)**


	6. Chapter 6: Not So Different

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter *gasp***

**Chapter Six: Not So Different**

When Severus next woke he sat up slowly and looked around the room for Potter. The boy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, chewing on the end of his quill and frowning at the parchment on his lap.

"Damnit," muttered Harry, flipping through his textbook in obvious frustration.

"Language, Potter," said Severus mildly.

Harry jumped. "Oh, hi, Professor," he said sheepishly. "You startled me."

"Obviously," said Severus. "What are you working on, Potter?"

"Your essay," grumbled Harry.

"Giving you trouble, Potter?"

"Er—a little," muttered Harry, embarrassed.

"Let me see," said Severus.

Harry gaped at him. "What?"

"I said let me see, Potter," said Severus. "What are you having trouble with?"

"Er—I don't understand the part about how the befuddling drafts work," he said grudgingly, bringing his work over to sit beside his professor.

Severus pulled the textbook toward him. "Well here's your problem right here. You're not going to find it in chapter fifteen."

Harry started at him. "Wait—are you _helping_ me with my essay?"

Severus chuckled hoarsely. "I guess I am. Would you rather I died of boredom?"

Harry's lips twitched into a small smile but he said, "Professor, you don't sound so good."

Severus coughed. "Imagine that. Do you want help with your homework or not?"

"Yeah," said Harry shyly. "But don't—er—I mean—if you get tired..."

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, I am an adult, I can handle myself."

Harry bit his lip and stared at his lap.

"Oh, Merlin, Potter! I am not mad at you! Here," said Severus, pushing the textbook toward the boy. "Here's the information you're looking for."

Harry looked up at Severus. "Th-thanks, Professor."

Severus shook his head, why did the boy have to be so damn _cute_?

"Is there anything else you need help with, Potter?" he heard himself asking.

"Er—yeah—would you?"

"Yes, Potter," sighed Severus. "Let me see."

*****CTC*****

An hour later, Harry and Severus were still bent over Harry's homework, Severus patiently pointing out the parts that Harry had gotten wrong. As Harry scribbled an answer, Severus leaned back and rubbed his temples.

Harry finished his sentence and glanced up at his professor.

"Sir? Are you alright? Do you have a headache? We should stop..."

"I'm fine," said Severus, wincing.

Harry snorted. "Not hardly." He closed his textbook. "I'm tired of homework anyway." He looked at Snape again. "Er—professor? You look really pale. Merlin, I shouldn't have asked you to help me."

"Don't be daft, Potter," said Severus, not opening his eyes. "I offered to help you."

Severus felt Potter get up off the bed and then return a moment later. A cold cloth was pressed against his head.

"Here, Professor. Does this help?"

"Yes, Potter, thank you," said Severus grudgingly.

"Thank you for helping me, Professor," said Harry, almost in a whisper.

Severus reached out and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. To Severus's surprise and slight disquiet, Harry leaned into his arm.

"Er—Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Are you tired?"

"Not especially, no. Why?"

"Can I—can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," Severus pointed out.

"Er—another question?"

"Depends on the question," said Severus warily.

Harry swallowed; he knew this was taking him onto treacherous ground. "When you found out that—that my relatives beat me—" Harry flinched as he said this, and Severus squeezed his shoulder subconsciously. "Why—why did it matter so much to you?"

"Child abuse is sick and wrong, Harry," said Severus. He didn't like where this conversation was heading.

"You said—you said you didn't want to see another child abused like that." Harry fidgeted. "Professor, what other child have you seen abused?"

Severus stiffened. "It's none of your business, Potter," he said jerkily.

Harry knew he should drop it, but— "Professor? Who was it? Tell me."

"_Leave it, Potter."_

Harry rose up on his knees and looked into his Professor's face. His breath caught. He knew that look...

"It was you, wasn't it?" Harry whispered. "Oh, Professor—"

"I said leave it, Potter!" snapped Severus, wrenching away from the boy.

Harry sat there staring at his hands.

After a minute he said in a very small voice, "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean—" He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Severus sat there, wrapped in his own thoughts. Why did Potter have to be so perceptive? He had never told anyone...only Lily and Albus had ever know what had gone on at home when he was a child... _And what a difference it would have made_ said a voice in his head _to have had an adult to talk to when you were a child. _

He turned to look at Potter. The boy had his head buried in his knees, his shoulders were hitching up and down. Damnit...he had made the boy cry.

Severus reached out and touched his fingertips to Potter's back.

"Don't cry, Harry," he said. "I can't stand tears."

Harry sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Professor, I shouldn't have—you're sick and—how are you feeling?"

"I am feeling better, Harry," said Severus. "And—and you were right, it was me."

Harry scooted closer to his professor. He could feel the heat of the man's fever.

"You're feverish, Professor," he said, pressing his hand to Severus's shoulder.

Severus drew the boy closer to him. "I know," he said. He took a deep breath. "I shouldn't have reacted like that."

"I understand," said Harry.

"I know you do," said Severus. "I wish you didn't."

"Who—who did it to you?" said Harry.

"My father," said Severus quietly.

"Your _father—_?"

"It doesn't matter, Harry. It was a long time ago."

Harry rested his head on his professor's shoulder. Not knowing quite why, Severus let him.

"I guess we're not as different from each other as we thought, huh, Professor?" murmured Harry.

"No, I guess not."


	7. Chapter 7: Promise

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine (neither is Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore...you get the picture)**

**Chapter Seven: Promise**

Severus opened his eyes slowly. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't cold. In fact, he was _warm_... Severus turned his head to the side and saw..._Potter?_ The boy was curled up on his side, snuggled into the crook of Severus's arm, his mouth slightly open and his black hair tousled.

Severus froze. He didn't know what to do. He had never been in such an absurd position before. Slowly, he tried to extricate himself from the boy, but as he slipped his arm away, Potter sat up and rubbed his eyes.

Harry looked around and last night came rushing back to him. Horrified, he scrambled away from Snape.

"P-Professor! I'm sorry—I didn't mean—I fell asleep—"

Severus held up a hand and Potter flinched away from him. Realizing his mistake, Severus lowered his hand slowly.

"I am not going to hit you, Harry," he said. "Calm down."

Maybe it was the use of his first name, but Harry relaxed slightly and took a tentative step toward his professor.

"I—er—how are you feeling?" said Harry.

"Better," said Severus, surprised to find that he really did feel better. Much better.

He pulled the blankets off of himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" said Harry hurrying forwards.

Severus cocked an eyebrow at him. "I am going to stretch my legs, something I have been unable to do for the past several days."

Severus got up and walked to the door of his office. It felt unbelievably good to be walking again. Looking into his office, he had to do a double-take. All of the potions that he had left half organized when Potter had fallen ill were now neatly put away.

"My—my potions," he stuttered.

"I—er—" Harry mumbled nervously. "I finished all my homework and—I know I shouldn't have touched them sir..."

Severus turned around and looked at the boy. "Harry, you just saved me a lot of work. You didn't break anything?"

Harry shook his head.

"Good," said Severus, patting the boy's shoulder.

"Professor, was that supposed to be a thank you?" said Harry, smiling slightly.

"I supposed it was." Severus's grumble was missing its usual acidity. "Don't get used to it."

"I won't," Harry assured him.

Severus waked over to the couch and sat down. Harry sat down beside him.

"Er—" said Harry awkwardly. "Do you mind?" he held his hand out toward Severus's forehead.

"There's an easier and much more precise way," said Severus, pulling out his wand. "It's called a temperature check charm."

He waved his wand over himself and then glanced at it before showing it to Potter.

"See?" said Severus. "Better."

"Your fever's broken," said Harry.

"Yes, it has," said Severus.

They sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do.

"I guess this means you won't be needing me anymore," said Harry. "Seeing as you're better and all."

"I guess so, Potter," said Severus, almost reluctantly. "You are—free to go."

Harry fidgeted.

"What's troubling you, Potter?"

Harry wrung his hands for a moment and then whispered, "Do you still hate me, Professor?"

Severus stared at the child sitting on the edge of his couch for a moment.

"No," he said, surprising even himself. "No, Harry, I do _not_ hate you." He moved closer to Harry and put his arm around the boy's thin shoulders and then turned so he and Harry were facing each other. He looked into the boy's brilliant green eyes.

"Harry...you look horribly like your father. But your personality's really a lot more like your mother's." He ran his fingers through his hair. "She would be proud of you."

Harry felt his eyes brimming with tears and hastily blinked them back. "Th-thanks, Professor."

Quickly, before he could think about it and lose his nerve, Harry leaned forward and hugged the Potions Master around the middle.

Severus stiffened. Was Potter _hugging_ him? He hadn't been hugged since...well, since Lily.

Severus swallowed and patted the boy awkwardly on the back.

"Potter, this is—unnecessary."

Harry drew back, biting his lip. "I'm sorry—I don't know why I—"

Severus touched the boy's hair gently. "Hush."

Harry looked up and gave him a hesitant smile.

"Don't think this is going to get you any special treatment during Potions," said Severus, some of the old sarcasm back in his voice.

Harry shook his head vigorously.

"Well," said Severus, standing up, "you'd better go, Potter, I'm sure your friends want to make sure that you are, indeed, alive. Though I'm not sure they'll be as happy to hear that I am."

Harry stood up too. "I'm glad you're still alive," he said quietly.

Severus stared at him, a funny feeling constricting his heart.

"Go on, Potter, get going."

"Bye, Professor," said Harry, walking over to the door. "See you in class."

"Goodbye, Potter," said Severus.

Harry turned the doorknob and stepped into the hall.

"Oh, and Potter,"—Harry looked back at his Professor— "I won't let you go back to those abusive relatives of yours. At least not without some serious intervention. I promise."

Harry climbed the stairs out of the dungeon feeling confused but happy.

Severus stood in his office long after Harry had left the room, staring at the door. As he felt the last vestiges of the illness finally drain out of him, Severus vowed that from now on he'd do better than make sure Harry stayed alive; he'd do his best to ensure the boy's happiness and well-being. Because somehow, inexplicably, Severus Snape had come to care for Harry Potter.

**AN: And that is the end. I know it wasn't particularly well-organized or complex or anything. It was just something that came into my head and I wrote most of it down before I ever thought of posting it. I have and am working on some other stuff right now that I've put a little more thought into, but really I don't come up with these things, they come up with themselves, I just write them down and iron out the details. Sorry this chapter was so short, but the story was over.**

**There is a sequel up now, or partially up, it's still in progress.**


	8. Sequel Notice :D

The sequel, Coming to Know, is up and complete :)

-SQ


End file.
